Part 60 (2/2)

But the instruments were not awed. They did not lie. If the object was a machine, it was made not of metal or stelamic or duralloy but of flesh. As it ap- proached the final meters, it a.s.sumed some of the aspects of a machine. It was easier to think of it that way; as a vast, organic machine. It was perfectly spherical. Delicate fluttering cilia in the millions lined much of the epidermis and propelled it rotiferlike through the water. The outer, jellylike sh.e.l.l was per- fectly transparent. Only its pale yellow glow revealed its presence.

Inside, they could make out a veritable metropolis of organs, immensely complex structures that belied that outwardly simplistic shape. There were growths moving freely in strange paths, others swinging like a pendulum, still others rotating about one another or some unseen central axis. Each possessed its own dis- tinct color: faint pink, light green, purple, rose, and more. Most were light pastels. Save for the purple, the only deep colors were occasional sparks of crimson or orange that drifted around the mult.i.tude of other spe- cialized internal structures like gem dust in a colloid.

The headache Cora had once experienced returned, stronger than ever. It thudded remorselessly on her

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brain, threatening to pulp her skull. She fought back, determined that mere bone would give way before consciousness again surrendered.

Outside floated something larger than any dozen whales, a ball of something unknown that approached stars.h.i.+p-size. It was bright as day around them, for all that they hovered more than five and a half kilo- meters below the surface.

Merced, studying readouts, swallowed and managed to say, ”According to the scanners, there are six of them out there. Of course, we can only see this one.”

The vast lagoon of Mou'anui could not have held the life that surrounded them. Six creatures do not a galaxy make, Cora told herself, for all their size. She found herself fascinated rather than fearful. Before her drifted the end result of billions of years of coelen- terate evolution, a collective organism of ummagined complexity.

On Terra similar creatures had developed spe- cialized polyps to handle such tasks as digestion, re- production, and feeding. Why not also polyps grown for mind control, or for other unknown purposes?

For all its great size, the creature appeared limited in its locomotive ability. It would need to evolve other means of defending itself. Terran coelenterates had developed specialized stinging cells to gather prey and defend. What could be more efficient than the ability to simply order a predator to look elsewhere?

But ignorant predators would be easy to dissuade.

Intelligent cetaceans would be more difficult to han- dle. Very intelligent ones like the orcas and the cato- dons might be impossible to control at all but short distances; and humankind, uncontrollable except when dangerously near. An aroused or aware humankind, such as Merced had been and they all were now, might prove uncontrollable under any circ.u.mstances.

Somewhere within that line of thought, Cora sus- pected, lay the reason behind the manipulation of the

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CACHALOT.

baleens and the destruction of the floating towns. She stared into the living universe of organs. One of them, or perhaps many, must form the creature's mind.

Then Rachael shrieked, Mataroreva cursed, and the submersible was tumbled over and over as the creature b.u.mped into it. A second came around from behind and they began to squeeze. Mental control having apparently failed, they were resorting to a far more basic method of attack.

A few supporting flows groaned, but the hull of formed duralloy would resist far stronger force than mere flesh, no matter the ma.s.s, could bring to bear.

The creatures could not damage the submersible.

They reacted by backing clear. Alternately fading and intensifying, the outer sh.e.l.l of the one before them pulsed in rapid sequence. Crimson fragments of un- known specialized function flared and raced within, a thousand living sunspots inhabiting a transparent sun.

Their activity might signify anything from poor diges- tion to incipient sleep.

Or it might be a reflection of something as basic and sophisticated as anger.

XVII.

Cora picked herself off the floor, found she had suffered nothing worse than a few bruises. Here, then, was the source of the baleens' madness, here the off- stage directors of organized murder.

The headache faded and Cora and her companions received their second surprise. ”CAN YOU UNDER- STAND us?”

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